


Nonsensical

by lilithiumwords



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Protectiveness, Romance, Sentinel Senses, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 07:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12271731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords
Summary: No one who has all five senses enhanced can understand what it's like, not being good enough. All Yuuri ever wanted was someone to protect.To be a Sentinel, one must have all five senses activated, and Yuuri only has four -- until he meets Viktor Nikiforov.





	Nonsensical

**Author's Note:**

> This AU was started on tumblr in a prompt and constantly continued because everyone liked it so much. In honor of the anniversary of Yuri!!! On Ice, I'm posting the story in full. This is a fun AU, and I really hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Special thanks to songstersmiscellany, xxxbladeangelxxx, howl-of-dragons, linneakou, miss-meri, and the lovely cast of the BBOI discord.

As evening deepens into night, a young man finds himself wandering the streets of Detroit, lost in thought. He notices the admiring glances passed his way but pays them no mind, knowing well that he is an object of attraction to many people in the world. It is that very notoriety that has led him to this city, walking alone in a sleek business suit, yet distant from everyone around him.

He had ended his Guide contract with Yakov's company this afternoon.

"Vitya, you can't!" Yakov had shouted, over and over, but Viktor had ignored him and, with their lawyers as witnesses, signed his name to the end of a rather illustrious career. No amount of pleading had changed his mind, and finally Yakov had given up, accepting the papers with a gruff glare, then demanding that Viktor call him every week to keep in touch.

Viktor smiles a little at the memory. His dear Yakov, who found out his Guide abilities at a young age and built an entire corporation on his back. By freeing Viktor from the monotony of everyday life, he had shackled Viktor to that same fate, because ultimately…

Nothing had changed.

Viktor's childhood was perfectly average, if a bit focused on ice skating. Perhaps he was more in tune with other children's emotions than normal, but Viktor had always used it to get ahead, to avoid confrontation and take care of himself and his own. Then Viktor had manifested his Guide abilities at fifteen, as some sort of "Super Guide," with the ability to Guide any Sentinel that crossed his path, whether they liked him or not.

He is, surely, the topmost Guide in Russia, possibly in the world. It means nothing to Viktor -- because he has never bonded with any of the Sentinels he has Guided. Oh, most of them were territorial over him at the time, but to this day, none of his past Sentinels have ever meant anything more than a job to Viktor, and each of them knew it. Some certainly tried to bond with him, but Viktor had never felt an answering call, and so it became easy to set himself up as a transitional Guide -- one that helped troublesome or new Sentinels before they met their perfect Guide. 

It was a good job. Viktor has enjoyed it, but he is tired of finding nothing wherever he searches. He has made enough money over the years that he can do absolutely nothing for the rest of his life and be perfectly fine -- but more than anything, Viktor knows that it would be empty of life and love, the two things he has ignored since he was a child.

With a small sigh, Viktor looks up, idly thinking he should get back to his hotel room. He realizes that he is standing in front of the Detroit Skating Club. He stares up at the sign for a moment, surprised that his feet have led him here.

"Is that you, Viktor? Viktor Nikiforov," calls a man's voice, and Viktor looks over to see Celestino Cialdini of all people standing in front of the doors with keys in his hand.

Viktor puts on a charming smile. "Celestino, hello. Locking up for the night?"

Celestino laughs and walks over to greet him, patting Viktor on the shoulder. "I didn't realize you were in town! You've grown up so much. You used to be a little skimp of a boy." 

Celestino is a talkative sort of man, so Viktor merely nods along and lets him chat, answering questions about his Guide jobs and reminiscing about his old skating day. At one point sometime later, Celestino looks at his watch, then over at the door, and a frown passes his expression, too fast for Viktor to gather what might be troubling him. Celestino seems to have no trouble expressing his worry, though. "One of my skaters is staying late, so I'm closing the front doors so he can practice in peace. I've got to go, but he's not done yet."

Viktor raises an eyebrow, following Celestino's gaze to the lobby. "You're leaving him unsupervised?"

"Eh, he's a trustworthy sort, though maybe I should... he tends to try out new jumps if I'm not watching," Celestino says, though he seems torn, glancing at the lone car in the lot. "He should be fine."

Viktor mulls it over for a moment, then gives Celestino another charming smile. "Why don't I keep an eye on him for a while? I still know how to skate, you know. Yakov made sure I kept up with it, even if I don't compete anymore."

Celestino grins at him. "Would you? Thanks a bunch, Viktor! I'd feel a whole lot better about leaving him here."

Viktor thanks him as Celestino lets him into the building, though as soon as Celestino's car has pulled out of the parking lot, his smile fades. Yakov would have never let him practice alone, especially not if he was itching to try out new, dangerous moves. He can't fault Celestino too much, given the skater in question is probably old enough to look after himself, but it still rankles him a little, for a coach to be so careless about someone in their charge.

With a sigh, Viktor heads deeper into the building, finding the rink with little trouble and making his way toward the ice. He frowns a little when he hears Chopin's _Nocturne 20_ coming to an end, then replaying from the beginning, but he cannot hear the familiar scratches of skates against the ice.

When he looks across the ice, Viktor sees why. A man is lying on his back in the middle of the rink, staring up at the glass ceiling with no expression, so far deep in a zone that Viktor is briefly afraid that he has had a stroke.

_A Sentinel! And Celestino just left him here?!_

Viktor flies back to the lobby and finds a pair of skates in his size, hastily throwing them on and returning to the rink. He skates out fast across the ice and comes to a stop beside the man, kneeling beside him and gently tapping his cheek, to no reaction.

_Damn, damn, damn. Where the hell is his Guide? Who would leave a Sentinel alone like this? If I hadn't spent all that time talking with Celestino, we might have noticed!_

From what Viktor can tell, it was likely sight or hearing that initiated the zone, since there is no food or drink nearby and a skater would be used to the cold. Quickly, Viktor scans the wall around the rink and locates a remote, which he utilizes to turn off the music. There's nothing he can do about the light, but Viktor ignores it for now, returning to the man's side and kneeling down again.

He places his hand on the skater's neck and begins to talk, his voice even, giving the skater something to focus on. "You're safe and alone. It's okay, everything is okay. You can find your way back by hearing my voice. Listen to my voice guiding you back to yourself. You will hear my voice, and then you will feel my hand, and then you see my face. Then you will smell the ice, and then you will taste the air, and then you will hear my voice..."

It takes ten minutes for the skater to react, his dark lashes twitching, before he breathes in deeply, letting out a faint moan. A good response -- he is coming out of his zone. "Good, that's very good. There, it's okay, yes, you can hear me, right? Focus on my voice. That's it," Viktor murmurs, relieved that the man is waking. "I can see your eyelashes fluttering. It is 9:46 PM, you are in Detroit, Michigan, and your name is..." He trails off, horrified at himself. "Oh, dear, I don't know your name."

The man wheezes suddenly, then whimpers and leans into Viktor's touch, which sweeps relief through Viktor. "You're responding! Good, very good, you're doing so well. You're hearing me now, right? Now, feel my touch. There," he soothes, rubbing his thumb against the skater's skin, "my hand on your neck, it's warm, right?" The man trembles, overwhelmed, but his sense are finally dialing down to normal. "Steady, breathe in," Viktor orders, his voice softening a little when the man obeys immediately. "Now breathe out."

He watches as the man wakes more, now shivering from the cold, and again Viktor curses himself. He has no idea how long the man was unconscious, but it likely happened not long after Celestino left, and if Viktor hadn't held him up, they could have...

He shakes himself. They could not have stopped the zone -- very little can stop a zone, except for extensive training. Doubt enters his mind -- if this man is a regular skater in Celestino's club, then he likely doesn't have a normal Sentinel job. Does he even have a Guide? Celestino should have mentioned it. "Good, that's very good. Can you open your eyes? Let's try sight next."

After a long, aching minute, the man opens his eyes, and Viktor finds himself enraptured. Dark, deep, and piercing -- and utterly beautiful, despite the sweat plastering the man's hair to his forehead and the pallor of his face from the stress of the zone.

"There you are," Viktor murmurs, delighted. If this man was _his_ Sentinel, Viktor would never have left him alone. "How do you feel?"

The man stares at him for a long moment, then lets out a shocked noise that somehow portrays his embarrassment rather effectively. Viktor can't help but smile, charmed.

"I'll take that as 'not very good.' Do you think you can stand? The ice isn't very comfortable, and I suspect it's already given you a chill. Even Sentinels can get colds, you know."

The man's eyes widen with shock. "I'm not a Sentinel," he blurts out.

_What?_

Viktor stares at him as the man turns red, the last effects of the zone completely fading away.

"Um, I'm just Yuuri. Hi," says Yuuri, a possibly unbonded Sentinel with whom Viktor finds he is rather enamored, on a level he hasn't felt before. He realizes that he is more invested in this stranger than he should be, which brings him up short. 

Is he experiencing Guide attraction? It's never happened to Viktor before... but it fits all the signs.

"Hi," Viktor breathes, unable to believe his luck.

~*~

The [song on the loudspeaker](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_0umDHCfSE) plays on repeat, giving Yuuri the chance to practice his choreography, shifting elements as he needs in the otherwise empty rink. His coach has gone home for the night, leaving Yuuri to work as late as he wishes. Nobody will stop him. Few have any need to enter the rink this late in the evening, and fewer still would bother to seek Yuuri out.

Even his teammates tend to avoid him, now that Phichit has gone home to Bangkok. Yuuri misses him.

It's a relief, though, to practice alone tonight. His senses have been too strong for the past few hours, honing in on the smallest of sounds, and Chopin's notes are enough to soothe him and give him focus. The stresses of the day melt away as he skates across the ice, turning sharply into a Salchow. He manages three and a half turns and sighs, undeterred.

Ice skating is a release, ever since Yuuri failed to enter Sentinel training. He is good enough for the Grand Prix Final, having been seeded for the upcoming season, and he wants nothing more than to do the best he can, for Japan, for his family, and for all the people who turned their nose up at him for not becoming a full Sentinel. 

It's not as if it's his fault. A Sentinel needs all five senses activated, and Yuuri only has four. His hearing is perfectly average, if prone sometimes to focusing on high-pitched noises in the middle of class, but Yuuri is content with it. Maybe not happy -- he had wanted to become a Sentinel ever since he was a small child. Content, though. There are other hypersensitives like him, ones who don't fulfill all the criteria. Yuuri had to meet with them for six months after being rejected by the Sentinel Corps.

No one who has all five senses enhanced can understand what it's like, not being good enough. All Yuuri ever wanted was someone to protect.

The recording flows through a set of rising chords to a high note -- and through the glass ceiling over the rink, the moon peeks out from behind the clouds above, casting light across the ice and making it shine as the high note peaks.

Yuuri doesn't hear it fade.

"-- there, it's okay, yes, you can hear me, right? Focus on my voice. That's it, I see your eyelashes fluttering. It is 9:46 PM, you are in Detroit, Michigan, and your name is... oh, dear, I don't know your name."

"Yuuri," Yuuri tries to say, but he ends up wheezing instead. The sweet, lyrical voice that draws him back from the darkness stops abruptly, and Yuuri moans, leaning towards it, into warmth, chasing the comfort it brought.

"You're responding! Good, very good, you're doing so well. You're hearing me now, right? Now, feel my touch. There, my hand on your neck, it's warm, right? Steady, breathe in. Now breathe out."

Yuuri obeys, not wanting the Voice to go away again. He feels it now, the warm hand on the back of his neck, covered in soft leather -- and that awakens his other nerves, which are very, very cold. Wet, too -- and now Yuuri finds himself shivering, tilting his head toward warmth again.

"Good, that's very good. Can you open your eyes? Let's try sight next."

Yuuri hesitates. If he opens his eyes, he will put a face to the Voice. Who knows who he might see? He doesn't recognize the Voice, but it definitely belongs to a man, someone with an accent -- though everyone sounds like they have an accent to Yuuri, whose English is second-hand. European? He sees many international students in his courses, but he just can't put a finger on the accent...

Curious to see his savior, and unwilling to disobey the Voice, Yuuri opens his eyes.

The moonlight is gone, but in its place is a man his age, with silvery hair and wide, worried blue eyes. Yuuri stares, forgetting the fact that he just zoned, that he can hear water dripping even though they are in the middle of an ice rink, and admires.

"There you are," murmurs Viktor Nikiforov, the topmost Guide in the entirety of Russia, and someone whose face has been plastered to Yuuri's walls for years. "How do you feel?"

Yuuri debates fainting. He settles for an embarrassing squeak instead.

Viktor's lips twitch into a smile. "I'll take that as 'not very good.' Do you think you can stand? The ice isn't very comfortable, and I suspect it's already given you a chill. Even Sentinels can get colds, you know."

Sentinel. Oh, shit, his hearing activated? And Viktor Nikiforov somehow found his way to Yuuri's side, to bring him back from a zone? Not even in Yuuri's wildest dreams could he imagine such a scenario.

"I'm not a Sentinel," Yuuri blurts out, then turns red. "Um, I'm just Yuuri. Hi."

"Hi," breathes Viktor, looking more enamored by the minute. Yuuri wonders if he should try running away. There must be terror showing on his face, but Viktor makes no sign that he notices, his fingers tightening slightly on Yuuri's hands. 

"First things first," Viktor says, "let's get you warm and dry, Yuuri." With a charming smile that belies his firm grip, he pulls Yuuri to his feet and leads him to the edge of the rink, then beyond to the lobby. Yuuri can hardly get a word in while Viktor bustles him about, sets him on a bench, and proceeds to untie his skates, all while steering him with soft orders and gentle hands.

"Oh, wow, your poor feet!" Viktor laments when Yuuri's bruised toes come into view. Yuuri winces and tries to hide them under the bench, but Viktor has already taken one cold foot in his gloved hand and is running gentle fingers over the biggest contusion, his large blue eyes woeful.

"It's okay," Yuuri whispers. He really isn't sure how he got into this position, Viktor Nikiforov kneeling at his feet and _touching him_. He wonders if he is dreaming, or if he is still in a zone.

 _Zone._ Oh. His hearing... he can hear so many sounds, now. He can hear someone talking, as if they are right beside him, but they are talking about Italian food, and the nearest Italian restaurant is two blocks away. Yuuri drifts a little as he listens in on odd conversations, until he feels a gentle rap at his knee.

"Focus, Yuuri," Viktor says knowingly. "Where is your Guide, anyway? They shouldn't have left you alone."

Yuuri flushes. "I don't have one. I told you, I'm not a Sentinel. I... I only had four senses activated... but now my hearing..."

For a moment Viktor just blinks at him, eyes going a little wide. "Oh," he breathes, "that does change things, doesn't it?"

Yuuri shrinks back a little. He has little idea of what to do when a fifth sense manifests as his did. Nearly all Sentinels are born with all five senses manifested, and they receive training from a young age, or they manifest when they are teenagers, and are thus accepted into the Sentinel Corps immediately. Yuuri has no such training, only what his parents could afford for his hypersensitivity. He isn't a Sentinel, not anyone Viktor would want to Guide.

"I know we just met," Viktor draws his attention, his hand still on Yuuri's knee and his eyes wide with something bright -- hope? "But I hope that means you will still consider me, even though I'm a stranger. I have very good Guide abilities. I am certified and everything!"

"Viktor," Yuuri tries, but he doesn't know what else to say.

Viktor brightens. "Oh, you know of me? That makes this easier! Yuuri, will you grant me the great honor of Guiding you? I will take care of you," he promises, and for the umpteenth time that night, Yuuri thinks of running away.

Viktor Nikiforov? Guide _him_? Yuuri's imagination will dream up anything, won't it?

"But I was rejected! I'm not a Sentinel!" Yuuri blurts out, and Viktor smiles at him, reaching up to run a soft, gloved finger over Yuuri's cheek.

"But you are now, Yuuri. I can't leave you alone after meeting you. Please, let me Guide you. It would be my honor."

Viktor waits patiently in front of him, still kneeling at his feet, and truly, his voice and touch are everything Yuuri ever wanted from a Guide. He has wanted to a Sentinel good enough to be Viktor's partner for years. He has admired Viktor for so long -- and here he is. Like something out of a dream.

"Okay," Yuuri finally whispers. If it is a dream, at least he can make it a good one.

~*~

The road that leads to Yuuri's house turns into dirt after a while, once Viktor turns off the main road. Detroit's suburbia is gone, replaced by countryside and farmland. Yuuri has to drive a long way to get to the Detroit Skating Club, but the benefits seem to outweigh the cost of gas, because hardly anybody lives out here. If Yuuri's instincts are as bad as Viktor suspects they are, then Yuuri desperately needs the solitude that comes with his own territory.

Twenty-three years old, and Katsuki Yuuri somehow managed not to go insane with four senses activated -- and with _no Guide._ Viktor simultaneously wants to hide Yuuri away and go after every person that looked at Yuuri and dismissed him from the possibility of being a Sentinel. Every Guiding nerve in Viktor's body has been screaming about Yuuri's _need_ for something to protect.

Well, Viktor has him now. He will not let Yuuri suffer alone anymore.

Yuuri's house is small, with a grey stone trim and angled windows that are covered with heavy curtains on the inside. The front yard is mostly left alone with untrimmed hydrangea bushes and day lilies growing in clumps along the road. Far to the left is one neighbor, barely visible from the property, and on the other side is woods. Viktor is reasonably certain that a mile into the trees is one of Michigan's many lakes. The backyard is fenced off, and deeper in its shade, Viktor can see a doghouse, the red paint faded.

Yuuri hadn't mentioned a dog. Animal companions are typical to Sentinel households, especially for Sentinels who live alone, so Viktor would not be surprised if Yuuri had a dog or three.

He closes the Cadillac door and strides up to the door, knocking with certainty. A few moments later, one of the curtain twitches, followed by footsteps inside.

Yuuri opens the door and blinks up at him with wide eyes, as if he still doesn't believe that Viktor exists. Viktor smiles softly and lifts a hand in a wave.

"Hi, Yuuri. I hope I'm not late." He knows he isn't, but the comment seems to break through some of Yuuri's defenses, because he steps back and holds the door open, gesturing Viktor inside with a flush.

"No, no, you're fine… um, please come in," Yuuri says softly, and Viktor steps inside, his keen gaze sweeping over the entryway.

The house is tidy and smells faintly of cleaning solution, the mildest that grocery stores have to offer, for its inoffensive scents for Sentinels. The wooden floor is smooth, sanded regularly, and dark curtains cover the windows. Every room is carefully lit by lamps, so as not to be overwhelming. Viktor suspects that if he were to see Yuuri's bedroom, it would be just as well-kept, with ultra-soft blankets and clothes inside the closets.

How anybody missed Yuuri's Sentinel instincts is completely beyond him.

Yuuri leaves him in the living room, mumbling something about tea, and disappears into the next room. Viktor chooses to use the time alone to snoop.

Viktor notices immediately that there is no sign of a dog currently living in the house. An old leash hangs on a key rack nearby, but it has dust on the plastic handle. A peek into the kitchen shows no dog bowls. Viktor catches sight of a small Japanese-style memorial at one end of the living room, and his heart sinks. Likely, Yuuri had once had a dog, but the poor creature must have died. He wonders how recently the dog passed away, and his heart aches briefly, wishing he could have been there to comfort Yuuri.

He has Makkachin, who is getting on in her years, and he cannot imagine losing her.

"How have you been, Yuuri?" Viktor asks when Yuuri slinks back in, carrying a tray with a porcelain tea set. Yuuri kneels down and begins to pour out tea, setting a small bowl of pre-packaged creamers and sugars in front of Viktor to add to his tea as he prefers. Viktor doesn't bother touching them; he has long grown used to plain tea.

"I've been okay," Yuuri replies, picking up his own tea, taking a seat beside Viktor. "It's been… weird. It's not really a zone, but I hear so much now… I get so distracted."

"That's to be expected," Viktor says, reaching over to pat Yuuri's jittery knee when it looks like Yuuri is dazing out a little. Even far from civilization, there is much outside that can distract a Sentinel, from the neighbors nearby to the animals wandering around in the woods. Viktor suspects that Yuuri is even able to hear the traffic on the interstate.

He doubts Yuuri has the house soundproofed, but he asks anyway.

"Oh, um, no," Yuuri blinks, focusing on him again. His leg stops bouncing under Viktor's hand. "There was an option for it when I got the rest of the work done, but I didn't really need it and it would only be more money, so…"

 _Money, of course. That might be an issue for him. Not while I'm around, though._ "That is fine, Yuuri. We can worry about that later. For now, I'd like to stay with you for a few days and get to know you. I'll need to run back to my apartment and settle a few affairs, but I should be back this evening."

Yuuri stares at him for a long moment, as if not believing his ears, and Viktor keeps his gentle, reassuring smile, all but radiating understanding. He can tell that Yuuri is easily spooked by him, whether because of Viktor's famous history as a Guide, or perhaps because of other reasons. Still, Yuuri's senses are quite strong, from what Viktor can tell, and he looks forward to exploring them with Yuuri and finding out his limits.

Finally Yuuri relaxes a little, managing a tiny smile, and Viktor aches to see it.

He doesn't want to leave Yuuri at all. He already had to leave Yuuri alone once, and Viktor is hesitant to do it again, when Yuuri is so vulnerable to the outside world. Sound is a very distracting sense, particularly for a Sentinel who isn't used to its sensitivity. The only reason Viktor is willing to leave Yuuri alone for a while is because of the headphones that are currently resting around Yuuri's neck, ones that block out all noise except the nearest and loudest ones. He had given them to Yuuri last night after realizing he needed to run back to his apartment to check on Makkachin.

He still needs to check Makkachin into a pet care facility, while Viktor looks after Yuuri. He hopes that someday Yuuri will let him bring Makkachin over. He plans to bring Makkachin up in the next few weeks, after he gets a feel for Yuuri's instincts and whether a dog would be good for him or not.

"Okay," Yuuri whispers. "I'll, um… I have a guest room. I'll get it ready for you," he offers, more a question than anything, and Viktor's smile widens.

"That would be lovely, Yuuri. Thank you."

~*~

Far away, a crow has found something to chatter about, and Yuuri listens dreamily. He gets lost like this sometimes, when a new sound catches his attention and holds it, even in the sanctity of his home. He never had the house soundproofed, after all, unlike all the other upgrades he was forced to do when he bought the house. Tinted windows, untextured wood for the walls, simple tiling. It's bad enough that his house shares a fence line with another property.

Yuuri doesn't like feeling caged in, and he's even worse about his "territory." It's become almost unbearable ever since his fifth sense activated, but Yuuri makes do.

"Oh, dear, you've gone and heard something interesting, haven't you? Yuuri, look at me."

Yuuri turns at the prompt to stare at Viktor, the one saving grace of his humility. Viktor beams at him, setting one calming hand over Yuuri's, anchoring him enough that the crow's excitement no longer matters.

It's been strange for Viktor to fit into his home like he belongs here, since Yuuri's quiet, understated lifestyle doesn't match the outgoing, cheerful man at all. Yuuri's clothes and sheets are unnaturally soft, either worn down through years of washing or made specifically for Sentinels. Yet Viktor hasn't once made fun of Yuuri's threadbare clothes nor his mostly lacking kitchen, empty of interesting spices.

The most spice Yuuri can handle is what goes into _katsudon_. Sometimes he wonders what he's missing.

"We'll have to get some soundproofing for the walls, at least for your bedroom," Viktor muses, drawing Yuuri's attention back from his thoughts. "It shouldn't take too long once we get that started."

"Maybe," Yuuri hedges, reluctant to allow construction workers into his home. His territorial instincts have been so much worse since that night two weeks ago.

Viktor smiles a little, squeezing his hand. "Only for your comfort, Yuuri. We could do some of it ourselves!"

That sounds a little better. Yuuri can't believe his luck in getting Viktor Nikiforov of all people to be his guide. Yet Viktor has come to his house every day, never intruding on Yuuri's space despite his bewildering presence, and Yuuri is tempted -- sorely tempted -- to keep Viktor here every night, too.

It would go a long way to ease his possessive worries that plague Yuuri every time Viktor leaves his sight. Viktor has spent most nights in his guest room, but he sometimes leaves for business meetings and other reasons, and Yuuri hates it every time.

"Yuuri," Viktor says, and the tone of his voice catches Yuuri with its hesitance. "Since I'll be spending a lot of time here, do you think it would be okay if I brought my dog with me sometimes? She's a sweetheart and very well behaved! Only she gets lonely without me, and I think you'd get along with her, and –"

"A dog?" Yuuri breathes, his eyes wide. "You have a dog?" His heart clenches, missing Vicchan all the more. Vicchan had died two years ago after moving to America with Yuuri, and Yuuri has never forgiven himself for it. His tiny pack, gone… He struggles for a moment to put his thoughts in order. "I mean, um… of course. I don't mind."

Viktor watches him for a moment, then squeezes his hand again. The feeling of his skin against Yuuri's sensitive fingers drowns out the grief a little. "I'll bring Makkachin over next time, then. It'll be good for both of you."

He smiles, and Yuuri slowly smiles back. He likes having Viktor here, caring for him, grounding him when he needs it. Long ago when he had been new to his senses and easily overwhelmed, his sister had calmed him, and later his dog, Vicchan. Ever since Vicchan died, his world has dulled, his senses no longer so potent, since he lost the last thing he cared to protect in this country. He had debated for a long time about returning home, before deciding against it; if he could focus on skating, then he would be fine.

And yet... and now. Now when his senses are threatening to overwhelm him, Yuuri has someone he can hold onto. A small part of him, that is growing in intensity, believes that Viktor is _his_ \-- and Yuuri doesn't want to let go of him.

~*~

Viktor smiles down at Yuuri, holding his hand gently. Yuuri fidgets beside him, hanging back a little, but Viktor never lets go him, nor does he ever push Yuuri too hard about going forward. Yuuri follows his lead easily enough, but he is so very tense that Viktor worries that he will begin to grind his teeth.

"It's a nice day, isn't it?" Viktor asks, and truly, it is a lovely day. The horizon across the deep green of Lake Michigan is grey with dark clouds, while the wind is picking up and threatening rain. The waves in the distant are white with frothed tips. Spring is fast fading to summer, but even this late in the season, heavy rains threaten to intrude on his time with Yuuri. Beside them, Makkachin bounds happily across the sand, sniffing every pile of twigs and grass with interest, never roaming far on her leash.

Yuuri gives him a disbelieving look, and Viktor's lips twitch upwards with amusement.

"Nice, sure," Yuuri mutters, and his sarcasm is beautiful to Viktor, who has never met anybody so acerbic since Yakov. Several weeks into their relationship, Yuuri is much more relaxed with Viktor, accepting his advice on everything without protesting too loudly, and sometimes even making a point to protest, which delights Viktor. He loves that Yuuri is growing more comfortable with him.

He and Yuuri get along very well, somehow. Viktor might be in love.

Truly, he might be in love. Guide attraction, love, destiny -- whatever it is, Viktor is excited to know Yuuri and be with him. He could spend the rest of his life seeing to Yuuri's needs, and every day has been a new surprise, from some small tidbit about Yuuri's private life, to a new facet of Yuuri's personality.

Viktor can't get enough of him.

"It's beautiful!" Viktor beams, lifting Makkachin's leash to gesture to the lake. "It will definitely storm later, which means we can make popcorn and watch a movie together! Makkachin _loves_ movies, you know," he confides to Yuuri with a wink, and to his delight, Yuuri snorts at him.

"Don't lie. _You_ love movies," Yuuri retorts.

"You got me," Viktor gasps, putting his hand to his chest in a dramatic move that makes Yuuri's lips twitch. Then Yuuri turns his head, looking out at the green waters, and Viktor knows he has lost him to some faraway sound.

This is the first public outing for Yuuri since his fifth sense manifested. It's no surprise that Yuuri is easily distracted. The easiest thing for Yuuri right now is to get used to different sounds, which is why Viktor chose a secluded location close to the city but mostly empty of other people.

Or so he thinks, until he hears his name behind them. Blinking, Viktor turns to see a small group of people standing up from a nearby park, where several picnic tables and benches rest.

"Viktor Nikiforov!" shouts one of the girls, squealing, and Viktor's mouth closes in a tight smile when Yuuri's head snaps around, his eyes wide.

"I'm sorry," Viktor says as the group approaches swiftly, "but actually --"

"I'm such a fan," the girl says, stepping far too close to Viktor for anyone's comfort. Yuuri goes stiff beside him, and too quickly, the dozen or so people surround them, all of them talking excitedly about Viktor and how they're such big fans, they loved his book, they heard that he is going solo, and so on.

Viktor just barely manages not to snap at them. Yuuri has gone absolutely still, and one glance at his face tells Viktor that Yuuri is close to breaking down.

"Thank you, but I'm actually in the middle of Guiding," Vitkor tells the nearest fan, smiling widely and wrapping an arm around Yuuri's shoulders. Makkachin comes to stand at his side, alert, and thankfully, the crowd backs away a little. "If you don't mind…? We'd like to continue walking."

"Wow, seriously?" one of the men comments, glaring at him. "She just wants your autograph."

Viktor doesn't let his smile fade, though he nearly loses his temper. He can feel Yuuri shaking. "My deepest apologies, but my Sentinel comes first. Thank you." He pushes past the two men blocking the path, and they let him go, though Viktor can hear their muttering behind him, and he suspects they don't stop even when they leave his earshot.

Yuuri is nearly hyperventilating. He is also flinching every so often, as if their words are cutting into him, and Viktor bites back the urge to yell at the group to _shut up!_ That's not what Yuuri needs right now.

Once they are far enough away for some privacy, Viktor turns to Yuuri and gently takes both of his hands, urging him to look up. Makkachin sits at their side, alert and quiet, and Viktor squeezes Yuuri's hands reassuringly.

"Yuuri, listen to my voice. Hear me talking to you. Can you hear me?" Viktor calls softly, and Yuuri doesn't respond, his breathing only growing more frantic. Viktor doesn't stop, though, continuing his soft questions until Yuuri slowly calms. At last Yuuri nods and squeezes his hands back, blinking away a few tears, and Viktor smiles softly at him, wrapping an arm around Yuuri's shoulders again and drawing Yuuri's other hand down to Makkachin's head.

"Let's go home, shall we?" Viktor murmurs, and Yuuri nods. He doesn't say anything all the way back to the car, not even when it begins to rain on them and they have to run the rest of the way. Viktor endures the car ride home in silence, while Yuuri stares out the window and Makkachin pants in the backseat.

Then Yuuri says, "I'm not good enough to be your Sentinel," and Viktor nearly swerves off the road.

"What?" Viktor gasps, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Where did you get that idea?"

Yuuri hunches in on himself, not looking away from the rain-swept window. "It's what those people said. They thought I looked..."

"They're wrong," Viktor snaps, and the anger in his voice must shock Yuuri, perhaps even scare him a little, because he flinches. Viktor forces himself to calm down, taking a deep breath, and exhaling slowly. "Yuuri, no one else in this entire world has the right to judge my decision to Guide you. Not strangers on the beach, not anyone in the news, no one. I chose you. I will always choose you. You are more than worthy of being Guided properly, and I am honored to be your Guide. Please, believe that, if nothing else."

Yuuri is silent for many miles of country road. Viktor drives carefully, knowing now where all the bumps in the road are, and it isn't until they have parked in front of Yuuri's house that Yuuri stirs again.

Viktor waits silently, as the engine idles, the headlights cutting sharply through the shadows.

"I'm scared," Yuuri says softly, his voice filling the space between the rain on the windows and the hum of the engine. "I don't have a lot of training… not like a normal Sentinel. I don't know how to control my senses, or my zones, or anything. And you're… you're _you_ , and I'm nobody, and I don't want to embarrass you…"

"Yuuri," Viktor can't help but say, reaching across the divide to take Yuuri's hand. "You can't embarrass me. It is impossible. You don't need to do those things right now. You just became a Sentinel! That is why I am here. To teach you how to handle those things. And I will be here forever if you need me. That is my promise."

Yuuri looks up then, his eyes dark with unshed tears, and Viktor's heart aches. "Really?" Yuuri whispers. "Even if… even if I never get better? I can't be in the military or anything, I'm not… I don't think I can do that. What if I can't ever…"

Viktor smiles softly, squeezing Yuuri's hand. "Then I will stay with you. And if you do reach the point where you can function in society, I will still be your Guide. I knew as soon as I met you that I wouldn't be able to leave you. Please… trust me. Please let me Guide you."

As Viktor watches, Yuuri's cheeks blossom with the soft pink of embarrassment and wonder, and his eyes nearly sparkle as he stares at Viktor through the darkness. Viktor feels a little embarrassed at his honesty, but he truly means it. He wants to stay with Yuuri. He knows, in his heart of hearts, that meeting Yuuri was not simply by chance, but the start of something momentous.

Finally Yuuri nods a little, the tension in his shoulders slowly seeping away. "Okay," he whispers, and that is all Viktor can ask for.

Later, after Yuuri is safely tucked into the corner of the couch with a bowl of popcorn, Makkachin's sleeping form, and noise cancelling headphones, Viktor thinks.

Going out in public had been a mistake. Yuuri isn't ready for his protective instincts to be challenged over Viktor's safety. If Yuuri had been any less overwhelmed by the people asking question after question earlier, then he might have become incredibly protective, to the point of physical violence. Viktor has seen it happen before, and he has no doubt that Yuuri's instincts would push him past normal social boundaries in order to keep Viktor safe.

He needs to take Yuuri away from this place. Viktor knows exactly where, too; the remote cabin his family gifted him years ago, where the nearest creatures are woodland ones. He has taken a few Sentinels there in the past, but only the ones who needed private Guiding and could not handle being amongst other people.

He has never kept other Sentinels there for longer than a week. He suspects he will need to keep Yuuri there for over a month.

It will be more than enough time to get Yuuri's house sound-proofed, in any case. It will also give Viktor the opportunity to reassure Yuuri that Viktor has no intention to leave him, as well as to begin training his individual senses in earnest.

Yuuri snuffles softly and leans to the side a little, and Viktor smiles as Yuuri's head touches his shoulder. Despite the popular canon that Sentinels are the protective ones in a Sentinel-Guide match, Viktor can attest to the fact that Guides are just as protective of their charges.

He refuses to let anything happen to Yuuri.

~*~

When Viktor swept into Yuuri's life and turned his world upside down, everything changed. Yuuri was quickly licensed to be an official Sentinel in training, and that more than anything affected his world view.

"I think you're more of a nontraditional Sentinel," Viktor muses as he fills out Yuuri's examination papers. "You don't quite fit into the typical military life of most Sentinels, and I can't see you as a police officer. Some become bodyguards, you know, or they work in investigations. Why, I've even known the adventuring type to be Sentinels! It depends on what you want, Yuuri."

Yuuri hesitates, glancing between Viktor and the form, which he once filled out himself, long ago when he was young and foolish. "I want someone to protect," Yuuri says finally, and Viktor smiles softly at him before checking off the "Non-Military/Police" box on the form.

"You have one, now."

When Viktor brings in a contractor to examine the house for the cost of soundproofing it, they find out that it will take at least six weeks to complete the task, because the do-it-yourself style of soundproofing wouldn't work with Yuuri's home. Yuuri is frustrated by that truth, but Viktor uses it as an opportunity to take Yuuri on a training trip.

Yuuri fights it. He doesn't want to go anywhere, and he doesn't want strangers in his house. Viktor promises that they will pack away Yuuri's belongings to keep it all safe, and that when they return, he will let Yuuri do whatever he needs, without any limits, to reassert himself into his territory, up to and including Viktor moving in with him.

After that, Yuuri acquiesces. He wants Viktor to live with him.

Thus Viktor arranges the contract work on the house, and Yuuri ends his skating career, so that they can train together. It's everything Yuuri dreamed of, and yet it's nothing like he imagined, because the first thing Viktor does is take him to a very remote house deep in the Russian wilderness.

Property of Viktor's family, handed down to any Guide or Sentinel in the family. It has the marks of Sentinels long gone, and Yuuri is wary of the place for almost a week until his and Viktor's scents have seeped into the rooms, marking them as his. Having Makkachin with them helps, because her scent blends easily with his own, as if she has always been part of his pack.

Just like Viktor, who already feels like he _belongs_ to Yuuri. 

Still, Viktor's presence isn't enough to stop his Sentinel senses from becoming overwhelmed. During the second week into their training, Yuuri zones. 

It starts off innocuously; Yuuri is sitting on the veranda, enjoying the sunshine of early summer. Far off in the distance, he hears a wolf howl, which makes him sit up worriedly. For a few minutes he focuses his hearing, reaching past the twittering birds, rustling leaves, and splashing streams, until he can hear the quiet huffing of four wolves.

Then it's all he can hear: the four hearts beating, the paws landing heavily on dry dirt, the high yips of a pup, the low growl of an adult admonishing her young. He hears them working together, and he longs for it, that feeling of _pack_. Vaguely Yuuri wonders what they are hunting.

The sunlight washes everything out. He doesn't feel the wind anymore; he doesn't see the valley that rolls away from the house, nor does he hear Makkachin barking.

He doesn't hear anything but the wolves for a long time, until he feels the faintest touch. It's gentle and rhythmic, and Yuuri shivers a little, drawing away from the wolves. He knows that touch -- his Guide. His Viktor.

The touch strengthens and becomes fingers, then a hand. Two hands, working through the same motions over and over: rubbing his arms, then patting his hands, then tapping his knees, then cupping his face gently. He feels Viktor leaning into him, and then he catches the scent of Viktor himself, lacking any cologne as it bothers Yuuri to smell it on him. He breathes in deeply, turning his nose into Viktor's neck, and he feels Viktor's hands tighten on his arms.

Yuuri debates opening his mouth to leave a mark -- then realizes he doesn't quite know Viktor's taste yet, and at the thought, he opens his eyes, shocked. He blinks several times, seeing only blue, before his eyes focus on the clouds in the sky. Then Yuuri turns his head, seeing Viktor sitting beside him, Makkachin at his feet with her chin on Yuuri's leg.

"There you are," Viktor murmurs, and the worry in his eyes makes Yuuri ache. "It's 11:25 AM, you are in the Nikiforov training cabin, and your name is Katsuki Yuuri. Hello, Yuuri."

"Viktor," Yuuri slurs, reaching for him, gratified when Viktor picks him up and carries him into the cabin. He welcomes the soft blankets on the bed, but he welcomes Viktor's warmth even more when Viktor settles beside him. Yuuri doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Viktor and curl into his warmth, the aching drain from losing himself to a zone leaving him quiet and needy.

Viktor doesn't mind. He never minds when Yuuri clings to him. "I've got you, Yuuri," he whispers, and Yuuri presses closer to him. He's only had Viktor for a few months, but already he never wants to let Viktor go.

"Mine," Yuuri mutters, his ears going red. "My pack. You and... and Makkachin. Like the wolves."

"Wolves?" Viktor repeats after a moment, his voice somewhat breathless, but Yuuri doesn't speak again, instead hiding his face in Viktor's side. He has made his decision. It's up to Viktor to accept it.

~*~

One beautiful summer day, Viktor lets Yuuri take a break from training and spends the afternoon lounging in cushy chairs on the veranda that overlooks the valley. Yuuri reclines on the chair with his legs resting on the long ottoman, where Viktor has perched his bare toes with a book open on his lap. Yuuri hasn't bothered with a book, Makkachin his only entertainment as she lays across his legs, his fingers gently stroking her curls as she snoozes.

It's utterly peaceful. Viktor almost wishes they weren't going back to training Yuuri's senses tomorrow.

"I grew up in Japan," Yuuri tells him, a faintly dreamy tone to his voice. Viktor has been listening to him drift in and out of his senses all morning, never pushing Yuuri to come back too hard, merely letting him explore that soft world between senses. He has made certain not to let Yuuri slip too far, though, for fear of him falling into a zone.

"Oh? I've been to Tokyo a few times," Viktor comments, turning his attention from his book to Yuuri.

"I didn't live anywhere near there," Yuuri replies, turning his face into the sun and closing his eyes. "I lived down south in the country. My parents speak with accents that the city folk thought was low class. I had to speak proper Japanese when I traveled for skating, but if I slipped into my normal accent, hardly anyone could understand me. It was great."

Viktor can't help but admire the faint mischievous edge to Yuuri's smile. "Have you been skating for a long time, then?"

"Mm, since I was six," Yuuri replies. "I entered competitive skating because of you." Then his eyes fly open and his cheeks turn pink, and Viktor stares, taken by the frazzled look Yuuri sends his way.

"Oh?" Viktor says slowly, his smile softening. "So you were my fan when I was in juniors, hm?"

"Er," Yuuri stutters, then groans and covers his face with his arm. "Yes. I mean… yes, I followed you. I'm… I _was_ your fan. Then you became a Guide, and… well, not long afterward, my senses manifested," Yuuri admits softly, and Viktor doesn't say anything for a long moment, stunned.

How did he not know? Yuuri has looked up to him for so long. No wonder he was so nervous when Viktor first walked into his life.

It makes him wonder. Though Yuuri had never met him, he had manifested partially as a Sentinel purely because of Viktor. They could have had years together, had Viktor known he existed. None of this 'super Guide' nonsense, but just Yuuri… always Yuuri.

He wonders if the reason Yuuri never fully manifested all five senses was because he wasn't close enough to Viktor physically. Viktor had lived in St. Petersburg in his youth with Yakov and Lilia, and with Yuuri far away in Japan, there was no way for them to meet… yet Yuuri had still manifested as a Sentinel, even if just partially.

Then Viktor goes to Detroit and comes close enough to Yuuri that… somehow, Yuuri manages to manifest his final sense. Maybe Yuuri had even manifested at the exact moment that Viktor had arrived at the Detroit Skating Club.

He never thought about 'fated pairs' before he met Yuuri, but now Viktor wonders.

With a small smile, Viktor reaches out to take Yuuri's hand, holding it between their chairs. Whether they are fated or not, Viktor has chosen Yuuri _now_. The past has already happened, but their future stands open and clear, ready for Viktor and Yuuri walk forward together.

He knows that Yuuri considers him pack already. Viktor hopes Yuuri will always consider him pack, because Viktor never intends to leave him.

~*~

They spend six weeks at Viktor's family cabin. During that time, Viktor pushes Yuuri every day to be more comfortable with his senses. He tests Yuuri by sending drones out into the woods to play songs, then records how far away Yuuri can hear them. On one memorable night, he sets off fireworks and makes Yuuri track the little rockets before they explode into light. Then he makes Yuuri exercise until he is ready to collapse, all the while pushing his limits.

Once Viktor has an idea of the breadth of Yuuri's abilities, he sets to training him. He sends the drones out again, this time making annoying beeps off in the distance while holding conversations with Yuuri. Several times, Yuuri wants to complain, but Viktor has a gleam in his eye that speak of a challenge, and so each time Yuuri grits his teeth and tries his best. A few times, he loses his temper over the beeping, but when he succeeds (by whatever measure Viktor is using), then he is rewarded with a heart-shaped smile and some cuddling on the couch.

Yuuri loves it when Viktor cuddles with him on the couch.

It's an appeal to his need for touch. Makkachin usually crowds close, too, and when all three of them are curled up together, Yuuri feels most at peace. He feels safest when Viktor is in his arms, away from anything that could harm him, and reassured by Makkachin resting her head on his knee. Nothing else matters when his pack is with him.

One night, Yuuri wakes when it is still dark out, and he is immediately tense. Outside he can hear twigs snapping and leaves rustling, the forest underbrush responding to footfalls. As silently as he can, Yuuri slides out of bed, creeping across the bare floors to the hallway and through Viktor's door, which remains open at all times, so that Yuuri can easily reach him if he is stressed.

He is very, very stressed right now. Makkachin wakes when Yuuri nears the bed, but Yuuri shakes his head with a low noise to hush her, and she remains quiet, responding to whatever pheromones he is pouring out. Viktor opens his eyes a moment later, blinking sleepily at Yuuri, who has his wide-eyed gaze fastened to the window.

"Yuu--"

Yuuri is quick to hush him with a finger to Viktor's lips. He looks down briefly, some tense knot in his chest easing slightly to see Viktor unharmed, the blanket falling off his bare chest as he sits up. Yuuri looks away and moves silently to the balcony door, leaning against the glass and looking toward the source of his discomfort.

A massive bear is standing in the grass, sniffing with interest at the trash bins. Yuuri bares his teeth in a silent snarl, tempted to go outside and make the bear _leave his territory_ \-- when he feels arms wrap around his waist and gently draw him backwards. Viktor's scent surrounds him, and he feels impossibly soft lips touch his ear.

"It's alright, Yuuri, it's just a bear. He's just interested in the fish we had for dinner. He's not going to bother us, and we won't bother him. Nothing will harm us. Nothing will harm _me_ ," Viktor murmurs, and the final word is what calms Yuuri's fury at last.

He allows Viktor to pull him into bed, but most of his senses remain on the creature roaming outside. Yuuri makes sure to place himself between Viktor and the doors, even if the bear is a level below their floor -- even if he doesn't have any combat training whatsoever. Makkachin takes up guard at Viktor's other side.

Viktor doesn't let go of him, though he does eventually fall asleep again, dozing at Yuuri's side. Yuuri never shuts his eyes, until the bear is long gone and the horizon is turning gray.

~*~

While at the cabin, Viktor has all of their groceries delivered from the nearby town. The freezer is fully stocked with fish and meat, and the only thing they need replenishing are perishables. Yuuri prefers to drink tea and water, and Viktor follows his lead, with the occasional coffee on early mornings.

Yuuri hates it when the delivery truck shows up, so Viktor makes sure that it comes in the middle of the day, when Yuuri is awake enough to handle a stranger approaching the cabin. The delivery company comes only once a week and never lingers, merely dropping off the groceries while Viktor signs the delivery receipt, and they are gone within minutes, never noticing the glare from an upstairs window.

Viktor doesn't bother forcing Yuuri to relax. A Sentinel with their protective instincts turned up this much will not be able to relax so long as something threatens their territory or pack. Instead, he commences a ritual of asking Yuuri to help him put away the groceries, so that Yuuri can put his scent on everything the delivery company hands off to them. It calms Yuuri every time, and as the weeks wear on, Yuuri grows less upset whenever the delivery truck turns onto the road that leads up to the cabin.

After Yuuri puts away the last of the vegetables, he yawns, and Viktor sends him off to bed with a gentle pat, gazing up the staircase after him for a little while. Then he putters around the kitchen, setting up dinner. After he is certain that Yuuri is asleep, Viktor picks up his phone and goes outside, deciding to use the impromptu break as a chance to talk to Yakov.

Yakov has been emailing him constantly for the past several weeks, trying to find out more about the mysterious Sentinel that Viktor reportedly picked up. It is time to put those rumors to rest, so that Yakov and the rest of the world understands that Viktor is not going back to his former lifestyle, nor is he giving up Yuuri.

Yakov picks up the call immediately. "Vitya," he grunts, before beginning to lecture him in Russian. "This is how you repay me? Three months of silence? Where the hell are you?"

"Hello, Yakov," Viktor says calmly, smiling. "I'm at the Nikiforov cabin. I ask that you don't come and visit."

Yakov's rant cuts off, and he remains silent for a long moment. "So it's true, then. You have a Sentinel with you."

Viktor laughs softly, folding himself into one of the porch chairs. "I do. We are in training right now, so I do not wish to upset him with visitors."

He can only imagine what sort of expression Yakov is wearing. Yakov was the one who found him and nurtured his talents as a Guide, though he knows some extent of Viktor's exhaustion with meeting Sentinel after Sentinel and never finding a match. Yakov, who wasn't either, never quite understood it.

"Who is this boy?" Yakov demands, as Viktor expected of him. Viktor exhales and looks up at the blue sky, tilting his head back to look at the curtains covering Yuuri's room.

"He is someone who came to his Sentinel gifts just recently and needs my Guidance. A grown man who manifested late. I do not intend to let him go, Yakov."

Another long silence, which speaks more about Yakov's worry than anything. Usually he would be ranting by now. "Have you bonded with this boy? Some unknown Sentinel? He could be dangerous, Vitya. You should let me perform a background check on him."

Viktor closes his eyes. The last he wants is to interrupt Yuuri's training and healing. He is already debating spending an extra few weeks here, maybe even longer, but he knows that they need to return to the real world sometime soon. Viktor needs to introduce Yuuri to the public as his Sentinel, and they need to decide what they are going to do with their lives after this.

He needs to talk with Yuuri, first.

"I'll let you know when I'm coming back, Yakov," Viktor says, not bothering to reply to Yakov's overreaching worries. "Good-bye."

"Vitya, wait --"

Viktor hangs up before Yakov can say anything else. He tosses the phone on the ottoman and sits in silence for a long time, simply letting the sounds and scents of nature calm his irritation, until the chair dips beside him and a weight settles against his side. Viktor opens his eyes and blinks away the vivid blue from the sun, then smiles down at Yuuri, who has already closed his eyes again.

"Heard you talking," Yuuri mumbles against Viktor's shoulder, and Viktor huffs a laugh. Thankfully, none of Yuuri's other senses had sensed danger, only the noise from the call, and he is glad for it. Yuuri doesn't need to be upset again, especially not after the bear from the other day.

"I was talking to Yakov. He was curious about where I've been."

"Hmm…" Yuuri dazes out for a little while, and Viktor watches him with a soft expression, wondering if any other person in his life has ever felt so much like home.

~*~

On some level, Yuuri is horrified by his own overprotective behavior, with shame so visceral and deep that he cannot even speak of it. Viktor senses it anyway and draws it out of him, just as he draws all of Yuuri's other faults, and guides him through processing it.

"When you got your first puppy, how did you feel if someone else tried to pet him? Touch him?" Viktor asks one day, after Yuuri actually growls at a raccoon that was skittering around outside the window. Makkachin adopted the same noise, taking her cue from Yuuri, but half a second later Yuuri was so embarrassed by the sound he made that he locked himself in the bathroom for an hour.

Viktor, eternally patient, had waited him out.

Yuuri thinks about it for a moment. He is sitting on the couch with his knees drawn up, hugging a pillow close, while Viktor sits beside him and edges closer every so often. Yuuri hasn't flinched away yet. "I didn't want anyone to touch him. Except my family," Yuuri finally says, a little surprised. He remembers a clear moment when his rinkmate Yuuko had squealed and reached out to pet Vicchan, and Yuuri, even at such an age, had snapped at her and run away.

Viktor's hand lands on his socked foot. Yuuri allows the touch, glancing down briefly at the long fingers, then away at the window. Viktor hums in consideration. "Even when they are children, Sentinels are territorial, whether or not they have all of the senses activated. Of course, partially activated Sentinels do not feel the instincts as strongly until full activation, which is what is happening to you right now. It is perfectly normal, Yuuri. I can guarantee that every Sentinel on this planet has done something socially embarrassing in the name of protecting their pack and territory."

All the while, as he is uttering smooth words to soothe Yuuri's stress, Viktor is coaxing Yuuri into moving his feet forward. By the time he finishes, Yuuri's feet are in Viktor's lap, and Viktor is gently massaging them. Yuuri slumps a little against the armrest of the couch, lifting his gaze briefly to Viktor's face.

Viktor smiles at him, and Yuuri looks away again.

"But what if..." He trails off, then gathers his courage. "What if I react that way in public? It'd hurt your image..."

Viktor snorts, a sound so unlike him that Yuuri's gaze jerks up, to see Viktor shaking his head. "I don't care what they think, Yuuri. Maybe I did when I was younger, when I liked surprising them, but over the years it's become clear that the public is an insatiable beast when it comes to their favorite things. I don't want to be a slave to social pressure, and you don't have to be, either. If we're in public and you feel that there is a threat nearby, then you have every right to snarl, growl, or scream at the threat until you feel I am safe."

Yuuri stares at him, and the edge to Viktor's sardonic smile softens. He squeezes Yuuri's feet. "We will train your reactions, though, so that you can differentiate between an actual threat and the illusion of threat. You're brilliant, Yuuri, so I know you'll pick it up easily."

Viktor's steady gaze is so earnest that Yuuri has to hide behind his pillow. What did he do to deserve Viktor Nikiforov?

After a long moment, Yuuri gathers his courage and looks up at Viktor, his heart in his throat. "Viktor? Will you stay with me? I mean -- forever?" he rushes to say, as Viktor opens his mouth. Instead of saying anything, though, Viktor only stares at him, his mouth hanging open, absolutely stunned. Yuuri flushes red but doesn't hesitate, pushing the pillow down and reaching over to take Viktor's hands off his feet.

He takes a deep breath. "I know you're known for sending Sentinels off to other Guides. But I don't want another Guide, Viktor. I want you as my Guide. As… as my family, as my pack." He clears his throat, his face heating up more, but he doesn't stop himself. Not now, not at this important point.

"I know I'm bonding to you," Yuuri says into the silence, hushed, and Viktor inhales tightly. Yuuri tightens his grip on Viktor's hands. He _cannot_ lose him. He has felt it, the soft fluttering of the bond in the back of his mind, the knowledge of Viktor's location, his mood, his needs. If Viktor leaves him, it will _break_ Yuuri. "Viktor, please, I will do anything. Please, stay with me, _please_ \--"

Then Yuuri stops talking, because Viktor has leaned forward to silence his pleading with a kiss. Yuuri gasps, freezing in place, but Viktor's lips remain gentle against his mouth, until Yuuri begins to relax and even leans into the kiss.

When Viktor draws away to let them both breathe, he is smiling, his blue eyes gleaming with happiness. "I feel the bond too," Viktor admits softly, his hands tightening on Yuuri's fingers. "I don't want to leave you either, Yuuri. So long as you want me, I will stay by your side. If you will have me… please."

"Yes," Yuuri breathes, leaning in to kiss Viktor again, his heart welling with the force of his and Viktor's emotion.

~*~

The crowd that has gathered for Viktor's press conference numbers in the thousands. Viktor greets them all with a smile, while Yuuri stands at his side, silent and foreboding. Viktor is dressed in a sleek dark blue suit tailored to his body, his hair artfully arranged to fall away from his face, while Yuuri has been forced into a similarly tailored suit, black with a gold handkerchief and tie. Viktor's colors, and it was entirely intentional, because Viktor said that Yuuri looked beautiful, and Yuuri couldn't say no.

He doesn't feel beautiful now, standing two steps behind Viktor with his hands clasped tightly behind his back, staring blankly at the crowd of thousands of eyes staring back at him. Instead of looking at any of the faces, Yuuri is focusing on one of the lights at the very back of the plaza, while he listens to Viktor's voice to keep himself grounded.

Six months of training with Viktor, and now he can handle a crowd of three thousand people without breaking down into tears. 

"It was with great regret that I left Feltsman & Co. when I did, but the mutual agreement to end our professional relationship afforded me an opportunity that I could not turn down," Viktor is saying. "I now have the time and energy to work with Sentinel-Guide foundations to establish safety protocols for safe Sentinel-Guide bonding, as I outlined in my book, _A Bond Unspoken_. I also plan to build safety exercises for groups and teach classes to future Guides on how to look after Sentinels. I believe that my unique experience in the field will be a benefit to society."

There is some murmuring at that, but nobody interrupts Viktor. The media has agreed to save their questions for the end of the session.

"Now, I have a little story for all of you," Viktor says, his smile widening. "That same day that I finalized the end of my contract with Mr. Feltsman, I met a Sentinel that I felt an instant rapport with. It is my deepest honor and greatest pleasure to introduce him to you tonight."

With that, Viktor turns to Yuuri and holds out his hand, hidden behind the podium. Yuuri looks away from the back of the plaza and meets Viktor's eyes, then takes his hand and steps forward into the light. 

Viktor turns his smile onto the crowd. "I'd like you to meet my Sentinel and fiancé, Katsuki Yuuri." Then he lifts their hands, where bright gold rings glint on their fingers, before tugging Yuuri in and kissing him on the mouth in front of the entire world.

Yuuri lets him. He has nothing to hide any longer.

Viktor lets the kiss go on a bit too long, and Yuuri is forced to break it, meeting Viktor's eyes before covering his face. "I can't believe you did that," he moans, and Viktor just laughs, elated as he holds their hands aloft, while the crowd erupts into cheers.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit my [tumblr](https://amberstarfight.tumblr.com/) to cry about YOI with me.
> 
> Let me know what you think! (*´♡`*)


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